


Written In Red

by WereAllDeadInDevilTown



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Beheading, Character Study, Execution, Found Family, Friendship, Historical Accuracy, I tried really hard to make this historically accurate to a degree, Kat/Anna if you squint, Mild Gore, Or they’re platonic you choose, Past Character Death, Reincarnation, This friendship makes me emo, Trauma, brief mentions of men but barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WereAllDeadInDevilTown/pseuds/WereAllDeadInDevilTown
Summary: An angsty retelling of Anna of Cleves and Katherine Howard’s friendship in their past life, from the day they met at Westminster Palace to Kat’s untimely execution.Anna thought Katherine had lived a tragic enough life as it was.Katherine thought Anna must not be very good at goodbye’s.
Relationships: Anne of Cleves/Katherine Howard
Comments: 9
Kudos: 45





	Written In Red

Anna recalled that Saturday having started like a very normal day. She awoke at an ungodly hour as she preferred to most days, up in time to comfortably watch the sunrise from her marbled balcony. Though she owned both, this view of the sun was probably the main reason Anna preferred Richmond Palace to Hever Castle.

The grand building laid upstream of the River Thames, which meant the napalm orange glow of the sun reflected off the ebbing water as it crept over the horizon and stirred the other residents of quiet England. Anna adored slumping over the cool railing of her balcony to stare out over that water. It felt good to feel separate from the rest of the world, safe in her own little part of home away from home, yet also connected to it all at the same time.

It was late November and Anna could feel it in the air, having to snuggle further into the thick wool afghan she had drawn around her shoulders after stepping out of bed. She had a feeling it would be a rough winter. Looking up at the dark clouds that hung overhead in the still somewhat dark sky she could tell it would probably rain later, and she made a mental note to tell one of the grooms that the dogs would need to be taken out for their walk earlier than usual to avoid getting caught in a storm. She loved her babies, but there was little she despised more than the smell of wet dog. 

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

Anna turned to smile warmly at her Chamberlain, Elena. 

“It’s quite cold out, Your Highness, would you like me to stoke the fire in your room?” 

Anna chuckled at her maiden’s formality, despite the fact that she’d been serving Anna at Richmond for almost a year they simply weren’t as comfortable with one another as Anna had been with some of her previous ladies in waiting at the Palace of Westminster when she’d been Queen. That was one of the nice things about being able to see that place from her own castle windows just down the river, it reminded her of the old friends she’d made when in power. 

“Yes, thank you, Elena. And again, please call me Anna.” 

Elena smiled shyly, carefully taking Anna by the arm to guide her inside and off the balcony. 

“Right, please pardon me for misspeaking, Lady Anna.” 

Anna let her thoughts consume her as Elena sat her down on the ottoman at the foot of her bed, slipping off her robe as the fire across from her grew and filled the room with warmth. She was fairly certain it was meant to be a relatively relaxing Saturday, trying and failing to recall if there were any meetings or other diplomatic duties and responsibilities she had to attend to that evening as Elena emptied the basin near her bed from the night. 

“Have you heard, Lady Anna?”

It wasn’t until she heard the question in her voice that Anna realized she’d definitely stopped listening to her Chamberlain. Elena must have been able to tell just from her bashful face that she hadn’t been listening though because she simply repeated her sentence without question as she helped roll up Anna’s thick stockings. 

“I heard this morning from one of the laundresses that his Royalness King Henry has stripped Lady Katherine Howard of her title as Queen of England.”

Immediately Anna’s back straightened, and her foot pulled from out of Elena’s careful grasp. 

“...What?”

Her voice sounded hoarse all of a sudden, and Elena reached for the cup of water she’d brought up with her from the kitchen. She could tell from Anna’s curt and tight expression it was more than a dry throat which contributed to her reaction. Elena swallowed hard.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you with bad news my lady. Perhaps the laundress was mistaken.” 

Anna stood, wrapping her arms around her waist in what was perhaps a very unladylike and unflattering manner but which helped to hide the way her hands were shaking from view. 

“Then she shall be punished heavily for spreading such falsehoods. Bring me my messenger at once, and we shall determine the truth.” 

Elena nodded silently, clearly frightened by the sudden change in Anna’s demeanor, hurrying from out of the room with one grey stocking still balled up in her clammy hands. In an attempt to calm her steadily increasing heart rate Anna slid off the ottoman and down onto the floor, cozying up into her silky pooling nightgown beside the fire. She sun at fully risen behind her now, the sunlight seeping in from the glass doors of her balcony casting shadows across the cobblestone walls of her bedchamber. The inky abstract figures staring at her from the corners of the room did little to calm her nerves. 

“Good morning, Your Highness.” 

Anna almost jumped at the messenger bowing his head slightly before her, not having noticed as Elena slipped back into the bedroom with him in tow. 

She couldn’t muster a smile back at him, she couldn’t even muster up formalities or politeness. Normally Anna would request a daily report she hardly even listened to, but today she cut straight to the chase. 

“Is it true? About Queen Katherine?”

The messenger appeared only slightly caught off guard, but quickly composed himself after sensing the ex-queen’s clear urgency. 

“It was announced by King Henry’s own messenger just this morning that lady Katherine Howard has been stripped of her royal status and title as Queen of England. She has been imprisoned in Syon Abbey, Middlesex on multiple counts of high treason and adultery.” 

The air left her lungs. If Anna hadn’t already been sitting she surely would have collapsed right there in front of her staff. She had long since suspected so but it was then, staring into her fire on a chilly, gloomy November morning after months without word that Anna’s worst fears were confirmed. It was true that, without a doubt, young Katherine Howard was going to die. 

* * *

Katherine felt as though she was going to freeze to death before she ever even made it to her trial. If there was even going to be a trial, that is. After having heard of Culpeper and Dereham’s beheadings the week prior, she supposed there probably wasn’t going to be, the odds looked rather slim at least. But if she didn’t hold on to any blind hope for herself, then who left possibly would? 

“Are you hungry?”

The gruff guard outside the barren room’s door didn’t even bother to poke his head inside to speak to her, simply shouting through the wood. The room didn’t look much like a prison, since it was a repurposed boarding room from when the building used to be a convent, but after having spent almost two weeks there it was definitely starting to.

There were no bars of the windows or boards on the doors, but the room was stripped of any personality and furniture, leaving Kat in a space where she was made to sleep on the cold floor and her voice echoed off of the stone walls. The chains which kept her wrists and ankles bound together didn’t help with comfortability either, she supposed. 

“No sir, I’m just cold.” 

Kat felt like she could practically hear the guard shrug with indifference, his voice getting quieter as he moved away from the door.

“Well, it’s December.” 

Katherine attempted to pull her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around them as though in the fetal position to preserve warmth, but the heavy chains cuffed around her wrists prevented her from doing so. Instead, she resigned to simply resting her chin on her knees, biting her lip to try and keep from crying. She wondered how long they could possibly keep her here. Her eighteenth birthday was meant to be in May, would she get to see it?

With nothing to distract her Katherine’s mind easily wandered to all the places she hated most here in her tower. She could close her eyes and effortlessly be transported back to the palace, back to her bedchambers, back to Thomas, and his unrelenting hands which had gotten her here in the first place. 

Katherine groaned under her breath and pressed the cool metal of her restraints against her temples, trying to vainly will the memories away as she had for days on end. It felt like every moment here was a moment she was closer to feeling like a death sentence might be the most merciful thing Henry had ever gifted her with. Katherine hadn’t received a single letter since her imprisonment. She didn’t know if that was because they weren’t allowing her letters, or because no one felt compelled to write to her. It was sad that both explanations were equally plausible.

Katherine would have killed to see a friendly face or hear a familiar voice. Even in the months before her life officially fell apart and Kat was considered royalty, the young queen had been unbelievably bored and lonely with Henry. No one at Westminster Palace had been especially friendly to her, no one who didn’t want to get her out of her corsets, anyway. Her ascent to the throne hadn’t been overly well-received, so her ladies in waiting weren’t exactly fighting one another for her admiration.

When she really thought about it, the only person Kat would really have considered her friend was Anna of Cleves- and even then, they hadn’t spoken since her coronation back in early August. 

Kat and Anna had gotten along well from the start. Katherine had been appointed one of Anna’s ladies in waiting back when she’d still been married to Henry in November of 1539, over two years ago now. Katherine had planned to simply blend into the background, to not cause trouble or draw attention to herself, but immediately Queen Anna took a liking to her.

Maybe it was the maternal side of her which had never been utilized to raise a child that longed to form a bond with scared young Katherine, or maybe embarrassingly and a bit selfishly she just found her astonishingly beautiful amongst her other maidens, but Anna was infatuated with her new servant from the start.

On her very first day in her new position, Anna had requested that Kat be the one to help her prepare for bed, and Katherine thought she was going to die on the spot. She messed practically everything up and was reduced to tears by the time she was asked to prepare the Queen a bath. Anna apparently found this all very endearing, because she called for her again the following night, and from then on it was tradition. 

Their friendship grew from there, wandering the castle grounds together simply to talk and dancing at balls together just to see the looks on the other suitor’s faces. Katherine confided in Anna things she’d never told anyone. Not big things like Maddox of Culpeper but other things like how she sometimes felt as though she saw her mother in dreams even though her father claimed she was too young to remember her before she died, and how she dreamed of someday singing before a crowd.

And then overnight it seemed as though the queen had left like she was merely a figment of Katherine’s overactive and troublesome imagination. Never could Kat have known she was meant to fill the lively and powerful woman’s position. Never could she have considered it was she who had contributed to her having been forced to leave. For a time Katherine had felt guilty about this, but now she thought maybe she’d done her friend Anna one last favor. 

But all this was months ago. At her wedding, it seemed as though Anna couldn’t even look her in the eye, and at her coronation, though she’d attempted to find her in the crowd and talk with her Henry had seldom let her leave his side. Anna had probably been avoiding her. And now, with Katherine only being able to imagine what ugly gossip about her had spread throughout England since her imprisonment, Anna surely would no longer consider her a friend.

She wouldn’t write to her, what would she have to say? She probably hated her. Or worse, she’d probably forgotten about her entirely. Katherine had been told she was forgettable. So, if Anna knew what was good for her, she’d forgotten she and Kat had ever even met. 

* * *

“Parliament passed the bill of attainder yesterday and are moving her to the Tower of London on the tenth. That’s in two days.”

Anna slammed her goblet down on the table, making the cutlery clatter together, and her red wine spill over onto the white table cloth. 

“And they’re still not bloody accepting letters addressed to her, or allowing visitors!? What the hell are they waiting for, she can’t have more than a week left now before her execution.” 

The messenger standing in the archway between Anna’s dining room where she was eating dinner and the hall shook where he stood. Anna gestured half-heartedly for a cook to take away her untouched plate of food- she’d lost her appetite. 

“Perhaps, if it’s of utmost importance to you Your Highness, with your ties to the king we could reach out to him directly and-” 

Anna cut her messenger off, standing from the table with such vigor that her chair nearly knocked over. 

“If I speak to Henry right now, it’ll be my neck that’s on the line next.” 

Anna pushed past her messenger and moved into her study down the hall, hoping to get away from it all for a while- the staff members, the constant news, the heart aching in her chest. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to put very much distance between herself and that as hard as she may try. She couldn’t stand the thought of Katherine dying, but more so she couldn’t stand the thought of Katherine dying alone and thinking no one cared about her.

People did care about her, at least Anna did. Not that the young girl would know it judging by the way Anna had behaved at their last meetings. At Katherine’s wedding and coronation, she’d hardly stayed much longer than the ceremony, slipping out the moment it wouldn’t be deemed disrespectful to do so. She’d bowed her head curtly to the queen that only a few weeks prior had been her close friend and confidant, not saying a word and trying to blend into the crowd.

It wasn’t because she was bitter over her title being ‘stolen’ by one of her own ladies as so many had speculated, much the contrary. Anna was relieved to escape Henry’s grasp, but she wouldn’t have wished it upon her worst enemy to take her place, let alone sweet Kat. When she received the notice that they were to be wed, it was like being invited to a funeral. 

And yet she’d done nothing. Nothing to help her friend, or quell her ex-husband’s desire for suffering and sorrow. At the time she’d decided there was nothing she could do- besides distance herself so that it wouldn't hurt as badly when their marriage eventually went south. But it hurt just as much now as ever. Anna felt unbelievably guilty. “It seems you’d gotten off lucky!”, one of her footmen had commented absentmindedly the other day.

And it was true, everyone knew that since that tragic Boleyn girl’s beheading another death at the hands of the king was long overdue. Something had changed in him after Lady Jane Seymore’s death- he was itching for another power trip. Anna had slipped through the cracks, she’d been able to get away unscathed, but truthfully she would have stayed in a loveless marriage with Henry for another hundred years if it meant avoiding this. 

Anna understood the grounds on which Katherine was being killed, but she also knew without a doubt they weren’t true. Not the whole truth, anyway. Anyone with half a brain could see that. It was why there hadn’t been a trial, or a case formed at all. No family cared about Kat enough to push the King for details, no doting father or mother to argue against the claims being blindly stacked against her, so why should they waste their time? It was his word against hers, and she was a child in way over her head.

Besides, even if it was found that Katherine was telling the truth and her relations with Henry’s courtier had been non-consensual, she had failed to disclose her prior sexual relations to the King within twenty days before their marriage, an offense punishable by death as well. It didn’t matter the circumstances, it didn’t matter that she was fifteen and Dereham was nearly twice her age, off with her head. Off with her head, his head, and anyone else who wanted to question it. Katherine Howard had lived an unfair enough life as it was, and now she would meet an unfair end as well. 

Anna stared down at the disarray of her desk, scattered with crumpled up parchment paper and pools of dark ink where she’d let her quill linger too long on a word. She sighed and relit the candle on her wall sconce, settling down into her chair with a loud thunk as though she were being weighed down. Just because they weren’t going to accept her letters, didn’t mean she was going to stop writing them.

She had never felt so powerless in a situation as she did now, so she was going to cling onto the one thing she did have power over. If only she could decide what to write. Maybe Katherine wasn’t expecting to hear word from her at all, and Anna was being affected too heavily by this. It wasn’t like she had never experienced death in her life, her older sister Maria had passed away from the plague in Dusseldorf just a few years prior. She’d been upset and attended the funeral, promising to financially support her widowed husband and her three children for the rest of their days, but they also hadn’t been especially close.

By the time Anna was ten she was betrothed to a king, and the same could be said with her other sisters. Their family came from very royal lineage, and although they’d grown up very happy they hadn’t been particularly tight-knit. 

Anna was usually a very guarded person. She was friendly enough with strangers, but also quiet and unemotional. That was probably why Henry found her so insufferable boring, she didn’t give him a reaction majority of the time. Suffice to say she didn’t click with any of the other residents of Westminster Palace straight away. She got along relatively well with the children from Henry’s previous marriages, save for Mary who seemingly hated everyone and everything, but she wasn’t with any of the castle staff.

And then there was Katherine. She’d been an apprentice for the secretary of the Dowager Duchess for well over a year, so Anna knew of her, but she’d never met her until Henry announced rather matter-of-factly over breakfast that she would now be one of her ladies in waiting. She remembered the first time she saw her she practically crept into the throne room and hid behind Anna’s usual ladies, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her dress. 

“Miss Howard?”

The brunette must have jumped about a mile, and Anna smiled down at her from her throne as she pointed at her chest silently as if to say ‘Really? Me?’. 

“Step forward, please.” 

It was times like this that Anna wished her voice was softer and more gentle, less intimidating. Usually, she liked to feel imposing and powerful, like she was the loudest person in the room, but at that moment as Kat’s knees nearly buckled when the sea of ladies parted and as she stepped towards Anna she wanted nothing more than to quell her fear. 

“Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Katherine curtsied gracefully, mustering up a polite smile. Still, she didn’t quite look the queen in the eyes, she was staring more so at the bridge of her nose. 

“I have heard much word of your looks, Lady Katherine, but forgive me, those rumors have done your true beauty no justice.” 

A gentle rapping at the door to her study brought Anna back to the present, groaning at the smudgy pool of ink she’d let ruin another piece of paper from hovering.

“Come in!”

Apprehensively her messenger, the same one from breakfast, stepped inside the room, and closed the door behind him. Anna looked at him expectantly, only mildly irritated, until he cleared his throat and began speaking. 

“I’m sorry for intruding, Your Highness, but the steward is here and he’s inquiring as to whether you plan on attending Miss Katherine’s execution so we can make the necessary preparations. It’s been announced that her beheading will be held at 7:00 AM on February 13th in the Tower of London courtyard.” 

Anna’s breath caught in her throat. She knew Kat’s beheaded would be soon, but five days away? She only had five days left- did she even know that? Would they tell her? So close to Valentine’s Day. Anna wanted to see Katherine one last time, but would she be able to handle a sight such as that? She’d never been to see an execution, she’d, of course, heard about Boleyn’s beheading when it was done just a few years back but she’d never felt the need to go. Really Anna had never before been able to understand the kind of people who would want to go and watch something horrific like that- but now here she was debating it herself.

Would seeing her face at that moment bring Katherine peace in her final moments? Would it help show her she wasn’t so alone? Or would she think Anna was only there for the entertainment, another set of gawking eyes? 

“I’ll go.”

Anna didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the two words came out as nearly a gasp, and she quickly turned to bury her red face in her work. 

“Are you sure-”

“Have a carriage ready for me at 5:30 that morning. You’re dismissed.”

Anna’s tone didn’t leave any room for discussion, and quickly the messenger once again left her alone. Anna picked her quill back up with shaking hands, dipping it in the ink and grabbing a new piece of paper. She only had five days to finish her letter to Katherine. It didn’t matter if she’d never read it, she had to do this for her. 

* * *

Smile at the crowd, kneel with your right leg first and then the left, pick up your skirt so it doesn’t crumple, bend only at the waist until your head touches the block, don’t grimace even if it’s bloody, once you close your eyes don’t open them again, and whatever you do don’t let them see you cry. 

“It’s time, Katherine.” 

Kat jumped as the robed man entered her room. She didn’t really recognize him, but he must have been one of Henry’s many castle staff. She had only ever been to the Tower of London very briefly before, so she wasn’t very familiar with anyone. It was a gorgeous castle with a beautiful view of the river, too bad she’d run out of time to appreciate it. 

“Are you going to try and fight this time?” 

The man sneered at her as he moved to unlock the chain restricting her to the wall, and Katherine shook her head no, recalling sadly the way she had struggled and screamed against them when she’d first been brought to her cell. She thought they were going to behead her right then and there and she panicked, unable to breathe and a sobbing mess. Now she had composed herself, now she was ready. As ready as she could be, anyway. 

“Stand up.” 

Katherine flinched against the man’s touch but obeyed, rising to her feet. There were several other palace men outside her room, probably brought as backup in case she tried to escape. But Katherine had given up, couldn’t they see that?

As Katherine was made to descend the spiraling stone steps of the tower, arms bound behind her back, she repeated in her head all she’d practiced last night in her cell until sunrise. Smile at the crowd, kneel with your right leg first and then the left, pick up your skirt so it doesn’t crumple, bend only at the waist until your head touches the block, don’t grimace even if it’s bloody, once you close your eyes don’t open them again, and whatever you do don’t let them see you cry.

She wished someone would tell her what day it was, as she’d lost count during her imprisonment but she was too embarrassed to ask anyone. It must have almost been Valentine’s Day. Katherine had always liked that holiday, even if she had no one to celebrate with. Just the idea she found sweet. 

“Do you want to be blindfolded?”

Katherine examined the thick black blindfold the man was holding out towards her before shaking her head no, she had been trapped indoors for three months and wanted nothing more than to see the sun a final time. 

The man shrugged with indifference before stepping in front of her to unlock the door to the courtyard, helping her down the final three steps until they were outside. At first, Katherine had to squint because it was so bright, hoping her eyes would quickly adjust to the light as a man behind her poked a firm finger at her back in an attempt to make her continue moving forward.

The first thing Katherine saw once her eyes adjusted to the light was the vast crowd that had gathered to see her execution. It was even more people than had attended her coronation, how sad was that? It had to have been hundreds, all staring at her with disgust and shock and pity. Before them was the stage where the executioner stood, dressed in black from head to two obscuring his face. In his hands he was holding an axe and Katherine stiffened, it wasn’t a sword like they’d used with her cousin.

“Move!”

The man behind her shoved her forward impatiently, and she nearly tripped over the front of her dress resulting in several whispers and laughs to be elicited from the crowd. Katherine raised her chin higher and slowly walked forward, pulling her eyes away from the crowd to look up at the sky. It was a beautiful morning for February. It had been a harsh winter as many predicted, but it had passed quickly, and Kat could smell the scent of spring in the air. Spring was her favorite. 

“Watch your step.” 

Katherine couldn’t pick up her dress because her hands were restrained, so she had to carefully maneuver around the steps leading up to the stage in order to prevent herself from falling and further embarrassing herself. 

As she ascended the steps Kat’s eyes briefly met the undertaker’s beside the executioner, it was she who had helped her get dressed that morning in the silky black gown she was wearing now. It was by no means the most gorgeous dress she’d ever worn, and black wasn’t her color, but it was pretty and modest. Katherine felt like she’d been preparing for a funeral, and she supposed in a sense she was.

At this thought, her lip began to tremble, and she repeated her mantra. Smile at the crowd, kneel with your right leg first and then the left, pick up your skirt so it doesn’t crumple, bend only at the waist until your head touches the block, don’t grimace even if it’s bloody, once you close your eyes don’t open them again, and whatever you do don’t let them see you cry. She was happy to see that both the axe and block seemed to be newly cleaned. 

“King Henry regrets to inform the crowd that he is sadly unable to attend Miss Howard’s execution this morning.” That was code for he didn’t care enough to wake up early to watch her die. Well good, Kat thought. She didn’t want to see him anyway. 

“We are gathered here today, at seven in the morning on February 13th, 1542, to execute the ex-queen of England, Katherine Howard. She has been sentenced to death by parliament on several counts of high treason and adultery. Unless a family member steps forward after the execution, her body will be disposed of in an unmarked grave with the two other executed members of her family; Anne and George Boleyn.”

The undertaker continued to speak to the crowd, but Katherine stopped listening. She was now standing in front of the chopping block, trying to ignore the axe which she could see glinting in the sunlight from the corner of her eye. She tried to push all the thoughts of dying gracefully out of her mind, turning her face up towards the sky. The sun felt so good on her skin, warm and calming. Because it was early she could still see the outline of the moon too, peeking out from behind some clouds. A perfect v-shaped flock of birds flew past silently, seemingly paying their respects. 

“The arrangements for disposition of the condemned’s property and accounts will be decided by his Highness King Henry within the month, her personal bedchambers have already been searched and her items inventoried.”

Katherine’s eyes left the sky and lingered on London Bridge in the distance down the river, knowing that although she couldn’t see it from where she stood, Dereham and Culpeper’s heads were there, severed and stabbed into spikes. She was glad she couldn’t see them because the thought made her stomach turn, but it also made her happy to know sometimes justice served. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, but sometimes people who deserve to rot do. And if anyone deserved to rot, it was them. And Maddox and Henry, but you can’t always have everything, can you. 

“Remove her binds.” 

At his order two of the robed men who retrieved her from her cell moved forward to free her hands, the chains clanking noisily for only a moment before dropping loudly at her feet. Katherine took a minute to rub her red, raw wrists, wincing in pain only slightly before resuming her usual pose of grace with her hands folded in front of her. 

“Condemned Katherine Howard, do you desire to make a final statement?”

For the first time since stepping out, Katherine turned her eyes downward to scan the crowd of people in front of her- hundreds of trained eyes on her. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, but instead of outwardly showing this she simply smiled politely down at her shoes and gave the undertaker a polite nod of confirmation. 

“Very well. Your final statement may not exceed two minutes in duration. Should you proceed speaking, the execution will continue without waiting for a conclusion to your remarks.” 

Katherine opened her mouth to speak, trying to remember not to slouch and to smile and not to stutter or ramble and a million other little details that felt like they were of the utmost importance when really, she could have said anything and she would still be dead in two minutes time. She could throw away the formalities and really come unhinged, spilling her guts in a way she never had before if she wanted to.

But the moment her eyes returned to the crowd and met with Anna’s, all thoughts left her mind. Had she been there the whole time? Right in the front row in tow with her family who were pretending to mourn their losses? She was only a few feet away in a beautiful linen dress, so close Katherine could almost reach out and touch her. 

“Go on, time is ticking.”

The expression on Anna’s face was unreadable, but Katherine couldn’t get past the tears which were silently streaming down her face. Don’t let them see you cry. 

“One more minute, Howard.” 

Anna looked the same as ever, absolutely beautiful. Katherine hadn’t expected her to come, she hadn’t heard from her since her and Henry’s wedding, she thought she hated her, she thought she-

“You have thirty more seconds.”

Her brown eyes were huge like a cornered animal’s, so clear she felt like she could see her own reflection in them. What she wouldn’t give to spend these thirty seconds just speaking to her. What was she thinking? Why did she come? Why didn’t she write? 

“Miss Howard-”

“Sorry!” 

Katherine’s voice came out startled and much louder than she’d intended, spitting the word out like it was venom. Her eyes never left Anna’s as she spoke.

“I just want to say I’m...sorry. I’m sorry. I hold no grudges. This is my own doing and I’m sorry it happened. All my love to my family and...friends. Please pray for me.” 

She didn’t know how else she could convey to Anna that she was speaking directly to her other than relentlessly staring at her and hoping she could feel her words resonating with her. Despite her best efforts, a tear slid down Kat’s cheek, and she hurriedly swiped it away with the back of her hand. 

“I’m just sorry. That is all.”

Katherine finally pulled her gaze away from Anna after she began to breakdown, the two servants on either side of her, having to hold her up by her forearms as she collapsed to the pavement, sobbing. The crowd erupted with whispering and wandering eyes, and Katherine held her breath as the executioner beside her nodded towards the floor. Smile at the crowd, kneel with your right leg first and then the left, pick up your skirt so it doesn’t crumple, bend only at the waist until your head touches the block, don’t grimace even if it’s bloody, once you close your eyes don’t open them again, and whatever you do don’t let them see you cry. 

“Assume the crouched position with your head on the block.” 

It was not a request, it was a demand, and Kat complied. She swore she heard Anna cry out to her, but she closed her eyes and tried to shut her voice out. She was glad she came, regardless of her motives. She hoped her blood didn’t stain her beautiful linen dress. 

Katherine exhaled and laid her head down against the cold wooden block, shuddering at how cold it felt against her cheek. With her face turned away from the crowd she finally allowed her tears to fall, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and biting on it hard to keep from making a sound. She could feel the executioner square up beside her, raising the axe to block out the sun.

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

Unlike swords, axes are not very graceful, clean, or swift. Neither was this executioner, because purposefully or not the heavy axe missed her neck by a sizable margin and instead lodged its blunt blade deep in her left shoulder. 

Katherine’s blood-curdling scream cut through the crowd, her eyes flying open instinctively and her hands flying up to push herself from off of the block. This hadn’t been in her preparation, this unbelievable pain she wasn’t ready for. To stop her from getting up, the executioner put his boot on Katherine’s back and stepped down on her, groaning as he attempted to pull his axe out of her back. Her screaming sounded inhumane, like it was coming from an animal that scientists have yet identified. The crowd gasped as with grotesque cracking popping sound the axe was removed from between Katherine’s shoulder blades. With a huff, the executioner raised the axe to try again, and Kat had only a moment to close her eyes again before the axe finally hit its mark and severed her spinal cord. The executioner had to strike her twice more to entirely separate her head from her body, but Katherine didn’t know this. She was, finally, at rest. 

* * *

They never found Kat’s body. The undertaker had said she was going to be buried with Anne and George, she remembered her saying that. She said if no one claimed her remains, which she was sure no one would, she would be laid to rest in an unmarked grave with her cousins but it was a lie. Years and years later when Anne Boleyn’s remains were dug up and she was properly put to rest, Katherine’s body was nowhere to be found. There were rumors that Henry instructed lime juice and lye to be poured over her body so that the acids would much more quickly decompose her body until it was unrecognizable. Whether that’s true or not, her remains were never uncovered. 

Which was fine, in Katherine’s opinion. If she wanted to look at her body and remember that day all she had to do was take her shirt off. Her neck scar looked nothing like her cousin’s. Somehow Kat almost thought of Anne’s scar as pretty. It was thin and delicate, like a necklace of inflamed flesh. The pink was a soft ballet pink, it reminded her of baby girls and bubblegum.

It was jagged near the nape of her neck but at the front, it was almost straight. It looked like a Halloween prosthetic, too neat to be real. It was a great source of pain for Anne no doubt, but Kat envied it. On the days where she was too lazy to find a choker or scarf she could throw on Anne made the scar work in a way Katherine simply felt she couldn’t. 

Katherine’s scar was much thicker, for starters. It was an angry red color most days, and it was jagged and crooked. There were great hiccups in the line where the axe must have gotten stuck, and the scar tissue wasn’t smooth it was scratchy and bumpy and caught on her shirts when she tried to pull them up over her head. It was far more raised than Anne’s, it looked constantly like if you were to touch it it would hurt like hell. And worse than that was the scar which ran through her left shoulder where the executioner had missed.

It was a scar you thankfully couldn’t see when Katherine had her costume on, but it was just as unsightly as the scar around her throat. The scar ran from the top of her left shoulder and diagonal across her back to where her shoulder blades met in the middle of her back. She looked like she was Frankenstein, like she’d crudely been sewn back together. Which, she supposed, she probably was in a way in order to be brought back to life. Couldn’t these scars, like so many others, simply have been left behind in her past life? What significance did they hold here other than a constant reminder of her past? 

But not everything that had followed her into this life was a negative reminder of her previous life. Anna of Cleves was a living representation of everything good about the world she left behind almost 500 something years ago. She was so glad Anna was here. The way she’d hugged her and picked her up and spun her the first time their eyes met in so long reminded her just of the way they used to dance together at every ball for months on end.

Those dark eyes would always remind her of her execution, but they would also remind her of so much else. They reminded her of creeping around castle grounds after dark, of drawing warm baths, of laughing by candlelight. There was some bad in everything, Katherine thought. Maybe that wasn’t a very optimistic outlook on life, but Kat so far had found it to be true. When it came to Anna though, she was the closest thing she’d ever known to all good. She was unbelievably close to being entirely good. She needed that good in her life, all of her lives. 

Anna was just excited to finally give Katherine her letter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Sorry for any historical inaccuracy, I tried to be as accurate as possible. I really have read on historical sitesthat it’s rumored Katherine’s executioner missed her neck the first swing- that idea is really what inspired this entire fanfic. I don’t ship Anna and Kat romantically but gosh if I don’t love their dynamic!! Also sorry if the spacing is weird, had to post this gif on my phone smh. Anyway, if you enjoyed this angsts lil drabble please leave a comment, I adore reading and responding to all of those! Feel free to follow me on Twitter: @eviesatop (: more six fics to come soon!<3


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